


Never Have I Ever

by zephyrprince



Category: Glee
Genre: Alcohol, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Ohio, US Source
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-30
Updated: 2011-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-23 06:36:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephyrprince/pseuds/zephyrprince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Looking back, Puck and Finn’s lives had been totally different in early high school..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Have I Ever

Looking back, Puck and Finn’s lives had been totally different in early high school. Of course, it was nothing compared to what came before – junior high, rotating classes, puberty – but ninth and tenth grade were still pretty awkward. Before the boys had gone out for glee club, most of their time was taken up by junior varsity football. But despite being on the team, neither of them had quite reached the pinnacle of popularity they’d achieve when they got a little older. And that meant living with the same adolescent anxiety that everyone did as they walked the halls every day.

When they thought about it now, one of the biggest problems had clearly been not having cars. That’s what most curtailed the boys’ control over their day-to-day. It was funny to remember that in those days when they wanted to spend more time together outside of school and sports, they still had to plan sleepovers.

It was the kind of thing where Finn would ask Carol for permission and then throw some extra clothes in a duffle on Friday morning. Laying the plans always filled him with a warm glow of excitement, though he’d try to downplay his eagerness. They’d get picked up by Puck’s mom after practice in her grey ’96 Saturn station wagon, and Finn would always smile, thinking to himself what a good car it was for a family - a mom car. That’s why he mostly went to Puck’s place rather than Puck coming to his. To Finn, four people constituted a big family, a proper family. And when he was being honest, he’d admit how much he yearned for that dynamic. He loved the chaos and the noise and the constant chitchat. He even loved the bickering and the discord as they sat around eating pizza or TV dinners off trays in the living room, watching tivoed American Idol or Dancing with the Stars. Finn just loved being around them. Plus, the Puckerman parents were way more lax about rules so Noah didn’t mind the arrangement either, and thus they always ended up there at the old split level over by the reservoir – 1518 Queensbury Drive.

Eventually they’d retreat to Puck’s room and push a chair against the door for privacy because the lock was broken, never mind that none of the rest of the family was even vaguely interested in what they did in there. And it really wasn’t that interesting, not to anyone but them – video games mostly, video games and long, winding world-defining conversations that stretched out and extended until they were lying next to each other under the covers of Puck’s twin bed, the room so dark they couldn’t even see each other though their faces were mere inches apart. And after they finally stopped talking and sleep started to become more of a possibility, they’d let their guard down completely, turning on their sides in the spoon position with no regard for the fact that they wore only their boxers or briefs. Such was the intimacy of the last days of sleepovers.

Occasionally, the rest of the Puckerman family would go out of town or at least out of the house for an evening and they wouldn’t think twice about leaving the boys alone. They figured high school was old enough and nobody told Carol so it was fine.

Up until this point, neither had drunk very much. Puck claimed to have tried all manner of substances, but Finn had a keen sense for weeding through the validity of his braggart locker room talk.

On one such night, though, this question of alcohol came to the fore when Puck paused their first-person shooter and offered to get his friend a swig of something.

“Yeah, man, you know my parents drink all the time. They won’t even notice if a couple of cups worth are gone from the bottles. We’ll just be careful.”

“I donno, Puck.” Finn suddenly felt very anxious but his buddy looked at him with expectant eyes. They were hard to resist. “So . . . then you’ve done this before?” It was the bargain of their friendship that Puck pushed the boundaries and Finn pushed back to keep them in line. Finn appreciated this about their dynamic. Puck never thought about it.

Puck let out a scoff.

“Me? Sure. Yeah, you know, I’ve been suckin’ on the boozey nipple since the day I was born . . .”

Finn cocked his head to the right, creasing his lips and softening his eyes in that way that always cut through Puck’s bullshit.

“Ok, ok,” he backed off the claim. “I’ve never done it but I wanna try and shouldn’t we do that together…” Puck fought Finn’s abilities with his own. If Finn could make him admit to anything, at least he knew how to punch his buttons too. Invoking their fraternal bond was the quickest way to get what he wanted, and wasn’t it true, anyway? It _should_ be the two of them together.

Finn pursed his lips even more and scrunched up his eyebrows in his intense thinking face.

“Ah, come _ooon_ ,” the young Puck whined.

“Fine, but we’re not pouring more than two glasses.”

“Yes,” Puck pulled his fist down through the air in an exaggerated celebratory gesture.

The two scurried into the kitchen, anxiety and excitement mixing together and rendering them highly stimulated as they considered the taboo of their goal. Puck approached the small, narrow pantry off their kitchen and pulled one of the bar stools in to step up and get to the top shelf. He examined what was on offer up there, looking down at Finn to deliver his appraisal.

“So, let’s see. It looks like they’ve got . . . everything. What do you want?”

“I donno,” Finn’s lower lip jutted out just a bit, still nervous but intrigued at the selection of multi-colored glass bottles filled with various unknown liquids. “What do you have to mix it with? Maybe I’ll try vodka.”

“Mix it with?” Puck stopped moving with one hand in the air, fingering the bottles. “What are you a pussy? We don’t need to fuckin’ mix it with anything. We’re gonna get crunk, son.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works, Noah.”

“Shut up.”

Puck handed him a bottle. It was Smirnoff flavored vodka. Finn examined the label. It said, “Vanilla Twist.” He thought that seemed a little fruity but it worked. Maybe the flavor would offset the alcohol taste.

Rummaging around, Puck finally produced a second bottle.

“Since I’m a real man, I’ll be drinking straight whiskey.” The label said, “Rebel Yell.” Finn was suspicious but mostly he was just glad it wasn’t being forced on him.

Next Puck opened one of the cabinets above the counter and looked around for appropriate flatware. For himself, he picked the single wine glass in sight. For Finn he got out a large blue plastic tumbler. He didn’t think it quite measured up but he didn’t comment to Finn and his compatriot didn’t seem concerned.

Finn handily unscrewed the cap on his bottle while Puck struggled with his own. Soon, however, they were both pouring themselves full glasses of straight liquor. Despite his smooth exterior, Puck was starting to catch some of the anxiety Finn had been showing from the beginning. There was a creek as one of the boards somewhere in the attic settled a bit and the two boys jumped, Finn compulsively reaching out to grip Puck’s upper arm. When the noise had passed they smirked and Finn let out a small giggle despite himself.

They took their prizes back to Puck’s room. Finn sat on the bed while Puck lounged in his beanbag chair.

“Ok, let’s do this,” Puck took a considerable swig from his glass. The taste was _horrible_ \- far worse than he’d anticipated, something like what he imagined mouthwash mixed with paint thinner might taste like. Despite his revulsion, the boy tried to suppress his response, but Finn still noticed and smirked to himself.

Finn tipped his tumbler back and just barely sipped. He swallowed and immediately coughed as the liquid burned his throat. Puck guffawed in delight, inwardly relieved that they’d had the same response.

A friendly awkwardness hung in the air afterwards because neither was eager to focus on the beverages. They resumed playing their video game, but after a while Puck got antsy. He pressed pause once again.

“Ok, since you’re too chicken to keep knocking back that shit, I have an idea to get us through it.”

Finn started to protest that he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t liked it but instead just squirmed, cradling the tumbler between his naked thighs just below the line of his cargo shorts that were riding up on his butt.

“Ok,” he said nervously.

“It’s called Never Have I Ever. Kinda like Truth or Dare without the dare part.”

Finn looked blank.

“So like I say, ‘Never have I ever seen red-haired twat.”

“Hah,” the slight laugh escaped Finn’s lips and his eyes sparkled, as he thought about the girls he knew whose carpet probably matched the drapes.

“So if you have done whatever it is – if you have seen a naked ginger chick or whatever – then you drink. If not then you don’t.”

“Ok,” Finn was interested now.

“Ok, so that was my first.”

They sat in silence for a second.

Then Puck opened his eyes wider, nodding expectantly at his friend.

“Oh, right. I haven’t.”

“Oh, ok, you’re turn then.”

“Never have I ever had alcohol before.”

Puck didn’t move for a second.

“Oh, come on. You already admitted it.”

“Fine. Ok. I haven’t.” He took a drink and then gasped for air as he lowered the glass.

“Never have I ever cheated on my homework.”

“Really?” This really was a surprise but Finn could tell it was earnest. The statement had far reaching implications for his understanding of Puck as a person. If he wasn’t cheating then he must be much smarter than everyone thought, but Finn was brought back to the game when Puck once again showed signs of frustration at his response time.

“Right, right. I never have either. Not yet,” he added, honestly not ruling it out.

“Never have I ever ‘accidentally,’” Finn belabored the word, waving his hands mockingly in the air on either side of his face, “…looked at gay porn.”

Puck blushed as deeply red as his olive complexion allowed. Finn was referring to an incident the preceding summer when he’d gotten on the Puckerman family computer to show Noah how to clear the history so his parents couldn’t find everything he’d been looking at. Apparently Puck hadn’t fully grasped the reality that this process would involve Finn seeing it all. Most of the page titles he deleted were normal, well normal within the wide range of heterosexual internet porn offerings – “Big Titted Bitches,” “Real Interracial Lesbian Action,” “Squirting Central” – but among those Finn also spotted a couple of oddballs. The first couple seemed ambiguous; “Stud Plowing,” for example, _could_ mean studs plowing girls. Similarly, “First Time with a Horse Hung Cock” didn’t specify the gender of the person taking said cock. But then he spotted one that was unmistakably, well, gay. “Dads with Lads.” Finn had laughed so long and hard that tears were actually streaming down his face. For Puck’s part, his protests went in several different directions all at once – it opened on its own, he’d clicked on it by accident, someone had sent him a disguised link as a joke. Eventually he got so upset, he just walked out completely, leaving Finn leaning back in the roller computer chair in the corner of the shag carpeted den all by himself, a puddle of laugher, spit, and tears.

Since then the boys hadn’t spoken of the incident. Puck had asked someone else to teach him how to delete his digital footprints and, honestly, Finn didn’t care what his friend looked at while he beat his meat. He just knew he loved him . . . and that it had been the funniest fucking thing that had ever happened to them.

Now, however, Noah was perturbed at having to take a drink and revisit that moment. He took a second to formulate a subsequent move that would be appropriately biting.

“Never have I ever made a girl cum.”

Finn drank, enduring the pain of the liquid sliding down his throat while enjoying a slight revel at having beaten Noah again.

“Woooah, who was it?” Puck was honestly impressed.

“It was Chelsea.” He couldn’t decide if he was proud or bashful and didn’t offer any more details.

“Aw, come on man, tell the story.”

“There’s no story. We were just hanging out at her house, watching a movie . . .”

Puck nodded vigorously.

“Well… Her parents weren’t in the room. We were holding hands and . . .”

Finn gulped. Puck spun his hand in encouraging motion.

“She kept pushing our clasped fists against her crotch and rubbing it through the denim of her jeans. I had a massive boner and I wasn’t sure what to do to. Eventually she turned and asked if I wanted to see her vagina.”

Noah was wide-eyed. His dick twitched in his shorts as Finn hit his stride with the story.

“So . . . I said yeah, yes, of course, and she unfastened her little thin belt, opened the button on her fly, and pulled down the zipper. She lifted herself up off the couch slightly and shimmied her tight jeans down her legs. She was wearing pink cotton panties with little frills on the elastic waist band. I’ll never forget those little lacey frills . . . or how wet her panties were right at the bottom with the damp spot creeping up the cloth towards the white fleshy waist I could see below her tank top.”

Both boys were obviously hard now. Puck was no longer making eye contact, but tilting his gaze to the ceiling imagining the scene.

“I was crazy excited and then the second she pulled at the waistband and revealed her wet little lips, I . . . well . . . you knew.”

Puck turned back to look Finn in the face.

“No, I don’t know. What?”

“You _knooow_.”

Finn indicated his junk with his hands. Still looking confused, Puck shook his head, questioning.

“I went . . . I went off in my pants.”

“Oh,” Puck looked fascinated but embarrassed for his friend.

“I don’t think Chelsea noticed. She kept asking to see _all_ of me and I kept having to say no. I finally got her off my case by offering to . . . well . . . you know.”

“Finn. Stop it.”

“Ok, ok. To eat her out.”

“Ah.”

“I just got down there and licked around on the outside at first, taking long drags with my nose to get used to her smell. Getting turned on by it, even. She was opening up as I slipped around down there. She started kicking her legs out in front of her off the couch, begging me to really do it, and so, eventually, I just went for it. I stuck my tongue right in the middle and went up and down and around, exploring all the folds but also trying not to pay too close attention ‘cause it was so weird. I even went down and touched the tip of my tongue to the opening at the bottom, but mostly I kept up that same repetitive motion for a long time and eventually she started moaning hard and her juices were really flowing, I mean like all over my mouth and then suddenly it just subsided. She said it was great. She started to put herself back together but didn’t even have her pants back on before her mom came in and asked if we were hungry. I was so nervous I couldn’t say anything. I wondered if it was obvious how we smelled and how messy my face was, but, if her mom did notice, she didn’t say anything.”

Puck’s hand unconsciously went to his crotch, “Wow.”

“I like this game,” Finn chuckled and clapped his cup against Puck’s. “I like this game. . .”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is unabashedly inspired by the “I never…” scene between Kate and Sawyer in _Lost_ , season 1, episode 17, “…In Translation.” It also comes out of a year of listening to Arcade Fire’s _The Suburbs_ and a recent trip I took to Ohio.


End file.
